


Not Your Reality (The Time-Out Remix)

by Veldeia



Category: Bullet Points (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 3490
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Identity Reveal, Multiverse, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldeia/pseuds/Veldeia
Summary: An unlikely visitor crash-lands at Natasha Stark and Steve Rogers' doorstep on the eve of their wedding. Just who is this alternate universe Iron Man?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Loss (The Better Reflections Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10442985) by [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi). 



> This story can be read without knowing anything about Bullet Points, but if you do want to know what's going on in that verse, Sineala has a helpful tumblr picspam post [here](http://sineala.tumblr.com/post/156518230139/bullet-points) (which obviously contains spoilers for the comic).
> 
> With beta thanks to Amonae!

Natasha Stark step backs to admire her handiwork.

It's not every day that she uses her armor for something like this: she's spent the better part of the morning hanging decorations. The garland she's arranged around the entrance is pure white like fresh-fallen snow. It's very pretty.

It also feels a little phony.

Maybe they should've gone for another color instead. She's still on edge about wearing the veil with her armor, too; she's not some innocent virgin bride, and everyone knows that. Not to mention that her and Steve's history is long and complicated, and most of it isn't pure and clean and pretty.

Maybe they should've gone for red flowers. Just red. Not red, gold, blue and white, surely. That would've been way over the top.

A commotion behind her catches her attention, and she turns on her armored heel.

The early afternoon street that was perfectly placid behind her, with just the usual traffic and occasional pedestrians, has suddenly turned into something entirely different: a scene with crashed cars and broken concrete here and there, and terrified civilians running for cover. Their clothes look a little different from what she's used to, like they stepped out of some period drama set in the Sixties.

Alarmed, she raises her hands, her repulsors at the ready. What's going on? What are these people so afraid of?

She gets a partial answer to the question a second later as a figure in silver armor crashes into the wall next to her, and in that instant, the vision disappears, the panicked civilians vanishing into thin air as if they were never there. The street returns to its usual casual bustle, except for one detail.

The armored figure who just tumbled into the wall slowly picks itself up, turning to face her.

She freezes.

That armor brings back too many memories, most of them unhappy. It's all too similar to what she wore herself, years ago, when she made her escape from Afghanistan. It's got the same crude build, the same round lines, the same grim helmet. There is one major difference, a glaring one, one might say: the red circle that glows a bright, slightly sinister red in the middle of the armor's chest plate. None of her chest pieces have ever looked exactly like that.

She aims her weapons at the armored figure and demands, "Who the hell are you?"

The intruder moves into a defensive position of its own, raising its gauntlets. "The Iron Man," comes the reply, in a voice as distorted and metallic as hers. It's followed by a barrage of questions: "And who are you, then? What did you do? Where's the Hulk?"

"That's who you were fighting?" Natasha returns, ignoring the rest. The most important thing is to assess the immediate threat. "As far as I know, Jen's busy working on some case or the other. No Hulks in the neighborhood."

"Jen?" Iron Man repeats, confusion clear in his voice. "That's not his real name. Please, I need to go back, those people are in terrible danger! Are you gonna help, or do I have to fight you?"

Natasha is no less confused than this unexpected visitor, though she's starting to guess what might be going on. "Not _his_ name, huh. And the Iron Man," she mutters to herself. "I don't want to fight you," she tells him, and slowly, placatingly lowers her hands, then spreads them to her sides in a gesture of surrender. "Iron Woman, at your service."

Iron Man holds his defensive stance. "Iron _Woman_? You're a lady?"

"I wouldn't go quite that far," she says drily. "Even if I'm about to get married."

"You're… What on Earth is going on here? Am I hallucinating?" he asks. She thinks his hands are starting to shake ever so slightly, even in the armor. "I fell, I must've—"

"You're not hallucinating. This is real. Just not your reality, but mine," Natasha says, aiming for the most reassuring tone she can muster. Steve is way better at this sort of thing. She hopes he's noticed something's going on and will join them soon. "Have you heard of alternate universes? The multiverse?" she goes on.

The blue eyes that she can glimpse behind the silver mask look no less confused. "Those words don't mean anything to me."

"Okay, the cliff notes: you seem to have fallen through some kind of a rift into a universe that's not your own. There are countless variations out there. In this one, I'm a woman. In yours, apparently not. Over here, Jennifer Walters is the Hulk. In yours, it's someone else," Natasha summarizes. She knows it's a lot to take in at face value, from a stranger, even if the stranger is technically the same person as you.

"Does this mean you can help me get back?" Iron Man asks, with far less wonder and curiosity than she'd expect from another version of herself. It's like he doesn't care that he doesn't know or understand the science. Like all he cares about is his mission.

"I can't, but I know someone who can," she replies. "Where you come from, do you have Reed Richards around?"

Finally, Iron Man's posture seems to relax a little, and he lets his hands hang by his sides. "Reed. I do know him, all right. He's one of the few people I might call friend. And a genius to boot."

"That seems to be a universal constant. Come on, let's go in," Natasha says, motioning at the entrance. "I'll contact him and run a couple of scans on you so we can get started."

"What is this place, then? You live here?" Iron Man asks, as if he hasn't been paying any attention to the building, and as if he's never seen it before.

"My home, and the Avengers' base of operations. Not yours, then?" Natasha checks.

"My place is slightly smaller than this."

This takes Natasha by surprise; she thought that he was fighting in front of the Mansion in his universe because he was defending it, but apparently not. Maybe it was just random chance, or maybe he wasn't actually in the same location at all. Who knows what kind of a portal he fell through.

They come from different realities, she reminds herself. There are bound to be countless differences. She shouldn't make any assumptions.

They step in, and make it about five steps into the hallway before they run into Steve. He's in full costume, clearly rushing to respond to the potential threat of this intruder. His eyes go wide at the sight of not one but two armored Avengers.

"Holy—Tash, what is going on?" Steve breathes, his eyes wide. "That's—"

"A little bit of unplanned dimensional travel, it seems. Cap, meet Iron Man," Natasha introduces her male double, who has stopped in his tracks, perfectly still.

Worryingly enough, Natasha can hear his strained breathing even through the helmet. He's been moving a bit stiffly, too. She thought it might be because of the more cumbersome armor he's wearing, but he did hit that wall pretty hard, and he was in the middle of a fight. Is he injured?

"He's not saying anything. Are you okay?" Steve asks him, stepping closer.

"Fine," Iron Man says, sounding anything but, his voice oddly choked. "I don't understand. How can this be? You're—" he stammers, eyes fixed on Steve.

"Your world is quite different, I take it," Steve says cautiously.

"Quite," Iron Man says.

"Let's not do this in the hall," Natasha insists. "My lab is this way."

Iron Man is definitely moving like he's injured, she decides as they make their way into the basement. He's limping ever so slightly, and holding his upper body very still.

If he's not badly hurt, he might just be able to talk Natasha into sending him back to that fight he accidentally fell away from, injuries and all. She's pretty sure Steve won't allow that, though. Certainly not if Iron Man bears any resemblance at all to her.

"All right, you need to get out of the armor," she orders her counterpart once they're in the lab, the door safely locked behind them.

"And if I prefer not to?" Iron Man replies, crossing his metallic arms.

"If you want to get back, you have to," Natasha says. She understands the reluctance, especially if he's still holding on to his secret identity in his world, but surely he must get this. "We'll need to do those scans to adjust for the correct molecular harmonics. Your armor is going to interfere with that."

He casts a piercing glare at her. "Are you also going to lose yours?"

"Sure, why not," she shrugs, and goes on to remove her helmet, as a gesture of goodwill. She's almost disappointed when he barely reacts to the sight of her face. It must be strange seeing oneself as the opposite gender, right? She's certainly very curious about him.

"I'm going to need some help with mine," Iron Man says, sounding apologetic.

Both Steve and Natasha move in to offer a hand, with Iron Man explaining where to find the catches to disassemble his armor. Not that he'd need to; the design is close enough to what Natasha has used that they're all exactly where she'd expect.

What she doesn't expect is the face that is revealed when Iron Man takes off his helmet.

"Steve?" she blurts out, her breath catching at the sight of those familiar, gorgeous features; those bright blue eyes, blond hair and fair complexion.

He's not her.

There's no mistaking it. This isn't her counterpart after all. This isn't a Stark. This is a Rogers. Steve Rogers.

She'd recognize that face no matter what, the face of the man she loves more than any other. And yet, he looks very different: older, and less healthy. Not just because of the bruises on his cheek and the blood at the corner of his lip, no doubt results of the fight he was in. He's very thin, there are gray strands in his hair, and his skin is even paler than her Steve's. This Steve can't possibly be a super soldier.

Of course he's not a super soldier. He's not Captain America—he's Iron Man.

Now she realizes why this Iron Man was so flabbergasted at the sight of her Steve.

"I know I'm not much to look at," Iron Man Steve says wearily. "And it gets worse. Come on. Might as well get this over with."

In stunned silence, they help him discard the rest of his armor, and they're in for another shock. The red light that shone in the armor isn't a part of the design. It's embedded in his chest, and it's _huge_. It seems far worse than anything she's ever dealt with, and that's saying a lot.

Momentarily forgetting where she is and that this isn't, in fact, a person she actually knows, Natasha reaches to brush her fingers against the red circle.

"Dear God," she breathes. "That's—This is your power source?"

The alternate Steve—Iron Steve, she labels him in her head—frowns at her hand, but doesn't make a move to push it away. "Among other things," he replies. "Power source, control unit, dead man's switch. I take it that you don't have one, then."

Natasha pulls back her hand quickly. That really wasn't appropriate. He took it better than she would've, really. "As it happens, I do, it's just slightly less invasive." She steps out of the rest of her armor and stands in front of him in her dark undersuit, with the pale light of the RT node in her chest in full view.

"Oh," Iron Steve says, raising his eyebrows. "Iron Persons seem to have similarities that go deeper than armor, then. Who are you, anyway?"

Right, she hasn't even told him her name yet. She offers him her hand. "Natasha Stark. Hi. Apparently I'm not as well-known in your world as I am here. Wow. I really wasn't expecting this."

"Tell me about it," her Steve says in the background.

Iron Steve turns to face him, and suddenly there is so much emotion on his face that it's painful to look at. She has seen many expressions on that face, and she thinks she knows how to read him. She sees sadness and longing, but somehow also wonder and admiration, all mixed together.

Just like she touched him, he now reaches out, placing a hand on her Steve's shoulder, then tracing the lines of the star on his muscular chest. "I can't believe this," he says, shaking his head. "I can't believe you're real. You're—just everything I wanted to be. This is Project Rebirth, isn't it? It was successful?"

"Yes. It wasn't, for you, then," her Steve says, softly, gently.

"It was never even tested," Iron Steve confirms, his voice low as well, sounding just like her Steve's. "The scientist who invented it was killed before the first test."

"He was killed just after the first test. I was the only subject," her Steve says.

"So, if not for that one twist of fate, I could've been you. I only ended up as the Iron Man because I was so insistent on getting my chance to serve," Iron Steve explains. "I don't know what it took for you to become who you are now. Becoming who I am, it was painful. Still is. It hasn't been an easy life. I don't regret the choice I made, but still, sometimes I do wonder how different things could've been. And now I'm looking at it."

Her Steve places both hands on Iron Steve's shoulders. "I'm sure you're every bit the hero I am. Considering what you must've gone through," he glances at the other Steve's monstrous chest plate, "maybe more than I am. I know a few things about living with something like that. I'm getting married to Iron Woman, after all."

Iron Steve looks from Steve to Natasha, his eyes huge. "That's who you're marrying, Iron Woman? You're getting married to _me?_ The better me?"

"To Steve Rogers, yes," Natasha confirms, casting a quick smile at her fiancé before focusing on his counterpart. "Better's subjective. I don't really know you, but my Steve is right, you do seem pretty amazing and heroic yourself."

"I'm just doing my part," Iron Steve insists. Then, he frowns and shakes his head, as if surfacing from a dream. The look on his face shifts from surprised to determined and urgent. "Except I'm not doing it now. I can't waste more time comparing notes, I need to go back!" He takes a step backwards, but stumbles, one leg giving way under his weight. Her Steve quickly moves in to offer his arm for support.

Natasha can't stop marveling at how similar this Steve is to her Steve, in spite of the differences in appearance and the different costumes they wear. And just as if it were her Steve, she can't stand seeing him hurt.

"You're injured," she points out. "And your armor is damaged. Please, let us help."

"I don't have time for that!" he exclaims, as pale and unsteady on his feet as he seems.

"It's going to take some time for Reed to get here anyway," her Steve points out. "We might as well make use of it. You'll be better prepared to go back to your fight."

Iron Steve can't very well argue with that, and finally relents.

Natasha immerses herself in figuring out if there's anything she can do about the armor. She knows she won't be able to work miracles with the amount of time she has, but she'll be damned if she doesn't try her best. For Steve.

The armor is just as crude as it looks, like it's the product of an earlier era. Did this Steve travel in time as well, or is his universe not in sync with theirs? She half feels like she's breaking some kind of a Prime Directive here, meddling with something built by a less technologically advanced society—even if it's just to repair the most obvious damage. Really, what she wants to do is to give him a new suit entirely, one that's not quite so crude. Just looking at the way how the chest plate will connect to the armor makes her cringe; wearing this thing must be agony for him. If only he wasn't in such a hurry.

While she focuses on the armor, her Steve takes up the task of tending to his counterpart's injuries. That must be an odd experience for both of them.

Though she's sitting some distance from them, she can't help overhearing what they're saying. At first, it's only the expected requests to stay still and questions of what hurts, but eventually, they end up in a discussion that rather makes her feel like she's eavesdropping.

"Out of everything I've seen and heard today, what really surprises me the most," Iron Steve says, "is that you're getting married. Not that I should be surprised. Why wouldn't you? It's just that—I never thought I would. Don't think I ever will."

"Lift your arm, please. There," her Steve says, and then, "Why not, though?"

"You see how I am. I've dedicated all my life to being the Iron Man. I haven't had much time for dating. Even if I had, who'd want to date me? Just look at me," Iron Steve says.

Natasha shakes her head to herself. She can remember thinking like that, not too long ago, thinking that no one could ever love her. She remembers hiding behind the armor and not letting her team know who she is. Not to mention all the self-consciousness about the scars on her chest, never wearing low-cut necklines, always worried that her physical imperfections would drive away anyone she let close to her.

Sometimes, she still can't believe her luck. Ending up with Steve is the best thing that's ever happened to her. She's loved him for so long. Marrying him—it's beyond what she's ever dared to dream about.

"I look at you and I see a good man, a man who deserves happiness just as much as anyone," Steve tells his alternate in his most convincing voice. "But I've got to say, thinking that people might shun you just because of some extra metal in your chest is selling them short."

"Even if you don't mind, most people still do," Iron Steve insists. "I can't say I don't envy the two of you."

"I can't blame you if you do. I'm an incredibly lucky man, after all," Steve says. He falls silent for a few moments before asking, like an afterthought, "You've never met anyone called Stark in your world?"

"Not that I can remember," Iron Steve says.

"Then you haven't met her," Steve says. "You would remember. She's amazing. One of a kind. Dazzlingly smart, so beautiful..."

Natasha realizes she's blushing. It's ridiculous that hearing Steve speak nicely of her still makes her feel like this. She _knows_ he loves her.

She struggles to focus on her work again, and makes a point of hammering noisily at the dented plate in front of her.

It takes another fifteen minutes until Reed shows up, and she has to drop her work so that they can finally run the necessary scans and calibrate the portal device.

"So, you know me in your universe?" Reed asks Iron Steve, mildly curious.

"Quite well, I'd say. You were one of the main people working on the Iron Man project," Iron Steve replies.

"I was? That's different. I don't think I've come across your universe before," Reed comments. "Do you have any idea why you ended up here? Any strange experiments going on? Or magic, maybe?"

"I'm no scientist," Iron Steve says with a shrug. "I was fighting the Hulk, so there was some gamma radiation around, I guess."

"I can't see how that could cause a rift like this," Natasha puts in. She's not an expert in dimensional travel, but she knows enough physics. Even though gamma radiation carries a lot of energy, it's nowhere near enough to break down the borders between realities.

Reed nods at her. "It shouldn't. Maybe there are some unknown factors at play. Hopefully my device will still work as usual."

"I hope so too. The sooner we get to test it, the better," Iron Steve says insistently.

It takes them nearly a full hour until they're all set and standing out in the street again, with Iron Man back in full armor. It's still not a hundred percent, and neither is its pilot, but Natasha hopes he's at least slightly better off than he was when he stumbled into this world. It's the least they could do.

"I'm ready. What're we still waiting for?" Iron Steve asks.

"Just give me another two seconds," Reed says, his fingers on the dials of his portal device. "Ah, there."

In front of them, the air starts to shimmer, until it turns into a window opening into that ever so slightly different mirror image of the street Natasha knows. There are still a number of distressed civilians about, but no Hulks in sight.

Iron Man steps towards that rift between universes, and Natasha is pleased to see he seems to be moving a little more fluidly.

Right at the border between worlds, he stops, turns to face Natasha, Steve and Reed, and raises his big silvery gauntlet in a salute. Then, without a word, he's gone, the rift closing behind him the second he's through.

Natasha's gaze lingers on where the portal was. "I hope he'll be all right."

"Me too," Steve agrees. "And I hope he'll find his Natasha, or whatever you're called in his universe."

He takes her hand in his, red leather against red metal. The hands that will be joined in marriage tomorrow. Right now, the joy she usually feels about that is distant and mixed with melancholy.

She laces their fingers together. "It doesn't bear thinking about," she says, "a world where we never meet."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In Every Universe (Different Realities Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493112) by [Neverever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever)




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